


it's a Long Way to Forever

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [78]
Category: Pro Wrestling Guerrilla, Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: (i'm so proud), Christopher is a good boy in this one, Head Kisses, Hugs, Introspection, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Meaningful Looks, Meaningful Touches, Swearing, Unhealthy Relationships, he only gets lewd once, obligatory Kevin Steen warning, stealth angst, stealth shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 12:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13481895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: He shines on his own, all by himself, like the calm blue waters of the ocean on a moonlit night.So why does he feel so frigid and alone?





	it's a Long Way to Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> So, today on our episode of 'bby!Steen uses as many euphemisms as he can conjure up in his little idiot baby brain, to avoid saying the word LOVE' we have more of the usual. I think we may be done with the #Hilarious shit for a while. Maybe. Don't hold me to that, as I have an affinity for stupid Shenanigans(TM). There is a reason that I am the Bard every chance that I get.
> 
> We may or may not be getting our angst on for a little while here. It depends entirely on how distracted I get.

He breathes hard, panting against the strain.

(fuck)

(he's Good)

_-what did you expect out of AJ-Fucking-Styles?-_

He doesn’t have time to answer his own inane internal question, as the fucker is lauching himself over the ropes, sending the two of them crashing to the ground. Amidst the scuffle, someone in the audience spills soda on his head and he distinctly catches someone trying to stuff a piece of paper into Styles’ tights.

(fuckin’ wierdos)

He reaches over, shoving the fans back with little remorse, the two of them getting into an exhausted shoving match, before A.J. goes for that bullshit fisherman buster and Kevin manages to create some space with a powerbomb that sends the both of them back into the crowd. He chokes on the stale air of the warehouse, shuffling weakly around in the dirt and grime as his head pounds and the crowd shrieks so loud he is sure his eardrums with implode.

(fuck)

_-got any bright ideas?-_

(not really)

_-no time like the present-_

_-might want to think of something quick-_

He heaves himself up into a crouch, just as AJ finally manages to get his wobbly legs under him and begins to turn back towards Kevin, a harsh look of grim determination on his face.

_-better make it count-_

* * *

Goddamn, he wishes AJ and his annoying ass concerned face, still a little pale (with that goddamn steak of blood just above his left eyebrow) and exhausted, would fuck off and leave him alone with his newly won title.

AJ’s little car salesman best friend could leave at _any_ goddamn time as well.

“Yeah yeah, go suck face with your little goblin boyfriend. Don’t worry about me and my horrific injuries.”

“Oh,” Daniels’ sputters, the look on his face suspiciously sheepish a he scratches at the back of his head. “Um. I may have already taken precautions in the event that you were grievously wounded? I mean, you hit your head on the apron pretty hard…”

Kevin cracks one eye open so that he can glare balefully at the scrawny bald idiot in the doorway. “The fuck do you mean, ‘precautions’?”

“Oh my god, what the hell happened?!”

Ah.

(this feels very apt)

“I’m fine,” Kevin bites out, not bothering to raise his eyes and take in the incredulous looks that he knows he is getting, the fuckers in the room not even willing to humor him. Not even that luminescence that is slowly creeping across the room towards Kevin, the light seeming to follow him, seeping summer warmth back into Kevin’s bones from halfway across the room.

 _-glad_ **_he’s_ ** _here?-_

What? No.

(not at all)

(too loud)

 _-missed_ **_his_ ** _voice-_

(...maybe)

“I hit my head on the ringpost-”

“Apron,” Styles cuts in, like the obnoxious asshole that he is. Kevin wordlessly reaches out and shoves the fucker, pushing him away with a grunt and a wince as the motion makes him slightly sea-sick.

“Whatever. My head hurts. Beat this prissy spot monkey’s ass though, so yay for me,” Kevin flinches again, a throb of pain going up his spine as he hefts the title up a little just to show off. He still manages to catch the brief, soft glimmer that enters Sami’s eyes, the smile on that face dulling the ach in his head just a bit.

(shut the fuck up)

_-concussed-_

Only a little.

_-good excuse-_

_-for a_ **_coward-_ **

“Well, I’m happy that you won and everything, but do you want some ice or something? I think I have a bottle of aspirin and some muscles relaxant cream around here somewhere-”

“Hey, that’s our cue, Ajax. When they start breaking out the back-rubs and the pain relievers it’s time to boogie.” Daniels’ is already pulling Styles out of the room even as he speaks, casting his gaze back and throwing a lascivious wink that Kevin responds to with a middle finger. Styles looks utterly puzzled by Daniels’ stupidity, but Sami just raises a hand in goodbye, chirping out a meaningless platitude as he rifles around in his bag for god knows what.

(hopefully something that will make this headache fuck off)

“So I have painkillers, and knock off Bengay, and I think there’s still some ice in this cup-”

Kevin finds he can’t listen to the fool ramble anymore, as he watches him trip his gangly ass across the room, arms full of tubes and pill bottles and a chewed on Mcdonald's fountain drink cup. Sami is looking at him, all concerned and expectant, like he is actually waiting for an answer. Kevin just raises an eyebrow at the look, something slightly pleasant about the molten inferno radiating off the freckled wunderkid today, for some reason.

“What do you need, Kevin?”

(...seriously?)

 _-man,_ **_he_ ** _asks the Best Questions-_

Fucking Idiot.

Kevin really, really can’t articulate an answer to that particular nuclear bomb of a inquiry. So, instead of replying with a mess of jumbled stuttering to Sami’s absurdly unanswerable question, Kevin does the first thing he can think of. Which just so happens to be reaching out, grabbing the fool by the wrists, Kevin’s brand new shiny belt falling to the filthy locker room floor as he drags the moron as close as he can get him.

Sami gasps, dropping all the shit in his arms, the supperflous garbage falling to the floor next to the shiny belt that he just worked so hard for. Kevin ignores the clattering and the grunt of surprise from Sami’s own lips, enveloping the flailing pain-in-his-ass in a bearhug that he is sure anyone else would be desperately trying to claw their way out of.

He breathes the sunlight through his aching nostrils, reveling in the searing sensation of the molten air that this tiny ginger idiot exudes. Sami makes a small noise of exertion at being crushed, but does not move away or throw Kevin off. Instead, (like the moron that **_he_ ** is) Sami reaches up with both hands, wrapping his boney little arms around Kevin’s shoulders.

Sami just stands there, in Kevin's arms, cradling the **_monster_** to himself, like the fool that Kevin always knew he was.

Kevin does not have the energy to tell Sami off for being so stupid, however.

_-right-_

“Are you okay?” Sami asks, so quietly that Kevin barely catches the whispered words. He doesn’t respond right away, just tucks his jaw into Sami’s collarbone and absorbs the scorching heat coming off the brilliant little ball of sunlight. Sami starts to pull back a bit, clearly intent on getting an answer, so Kevin decides to pacify him, if only this once.

“Just let me hug you, and shut up, alright?” Kevin grumbles, deciding that he can blame this whole thing on his own sorry state if Sami ever brings this up again.

He doesn’t look up, so he can’t actually see for sure, but Sami leans back into the hug and speaks in that soft, tender voice that tells Kevin that Sami has that stupid fucking smile on his dumb goddamn face.

“If that's what you need.”

"What part of 'shut up' did you not get?"

The smile that is all gentle caresses, and brightly lit spring mornings. The smile that even now, when Kevin is refusing to look at it head on, is tearing him apart from the inside out, gutting him like a freshly killed stag and driving relentlessly through his soul, like a wildfire of compassion.

(dangerous)

_-for **him** or for **you?-**_

(that a trick question?)

_-if you are a **monster** , you sure as hell seem like a **domesticated** one- _

(the hell is that supposed to mean?)

_-just saying i don’t think **he** has anything to worry about- _

_-Mr. Comfort Hugs-_

...fuck

Sami presses (what Kevin is desperately going to tell himself) is his scrawny chin to the crown of Kevin’s head, chuckling softly. The soft lilt to his voice is _delicate_ , and **warm** , and EverythingandNothingAtAll, and **_-need-_ **

“Hugs and silence. I dunno what doctor would agree with that treatment plan, but okay. I can do that Kevin.”

Sami leans into the hug even more, the space between them nonexistent as Sami continues to _not shut up._

Kevin finds he can't scold him for it this time.

Sami just continues babbling, that soft light in his voice making Kevin's head feel thick and foggy.

"Since it's  ** _you_**  that asked, I'll try my best. Only for you."

**_-finally-_ **

(there is silence)


End file.
